CHILDHOOD
by eemmaatt33
Summary: Childhood is a magical time, filled with wonder and curiosity. For what is more beautiful than the innocence of a child. Series of One-shots.
1. C is for Circumlocution

**Author's Note:** I do not own _Harry Potter_, all rights reserved to J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing. This is a not for profit, fan told story. Each word in the acronym of _Childhood _are from Edgar Allan Poe. Please leave a review!

* * *

**C is for Circumlocution**

**'Circumlocution' is to use many words to be persuasive or vague.**

"Hermione! Could you come here for a moment," Mrs Granger called from the living room.

Hermione, dressed in her favourite yellow dress, followed her mother's voice. Her feet were too small for her shoes, as she tripped on the way over.

"Yes, mummy," Hermione said.

"Can you tell mummy, why all the books on the bookcase are now all over the floor?" Mrs Granger asked, as she pointed to the mess on the carpet.

Hermione felt guilty. She had been playing with her mother's books. She only wanted to be a big girl and read the large words like her parents. She thought they would be happy, if she could read like them. Except her mother was now mad at her for leaving all the books out.

Hermione didn't want to be yelled at and looked up imploringly at her mother. When she acted cute, she usually got what she wanted.

"I'm waiting Hermione," Mrs Granger scolded.

It didn't work. Hermione had to come up with an excuse but she couldn't lie to her mother. It was wrong to tell fibs.

"I might know what happened, mummy," Hermione answered.

"You might know?" Questioned Mrs Granger.

"The books were read and left on the floor."

"I can see that. I just want to know who read them."

Hermione smiled.

"It might or might not be, I can't be positively sure, I'd have to check again, the probability is uncertain that it could have been me," Hermione beamed.

Mrs Granger looked shocked. Did her little girl learn all those big words?

"However I saw Daddy in here earlier. Maybe you should ask him!"

Hermione hugged her mother's leg, then giggled as she ran away. Mrs Granger was left wondering what happened. Hermione was a smart girl.


	2. H is for Halcyon

**H is for Halcyon**

**'Halcyon' means to be calm, rich or happy.**

James hid the gift behind his back. He didn't want Lily, his wife, to see it just yet. He snuck to the back door and silently opened it with an unlocking spell. The house was currently under the Fidelius Charm, only those who knew where it was could get inside. Being sneaky, he tiptoed around the corner and into the living room. _Lily must be upstairs with Harry_, James thought, _just my luck_.

He sighed with relief and placed the object on the table. The box was just begging to be open and its contents revealed. James has always been a curious person.

"What do you have there, James?" Lily asked.

James jumped, shocked at the appearance of his wife behind him.

"Lily! What are doing?" James yelled.

"I could ask you the exact same thing," Lily smiled.

James chuckled.

"Okay, I'll tell you. Come and have a look."

Lily sat down on the couch next to him and looked at the mysterious box James had snuck in. She gasped when she realised what it was.

"Oh, James. You didn't!" Lily exclaimed.

"Harry is going to love this. He'll be just like his father," James beamed.

"If Harry gets hurt, it'll be on your head," Lily scolded, leaving James to open the box.

James couldn't help but smile. He grabbed the box and yanked it open. Before Harry could use it, he had to assemble it first. Nothing that he couldn't handle.

Later that day, when Harry had finished his nap, James was waiting with barely contained excitement in the living room.

"Come to Daddy, Harry," James called.

"K' Daddy," Harry cooed.

"Look at what Daddy got you."

James presented his gift to Harry. It was a small broomstick, perfect for first time fliers. Harry was ecstatic, jumping up and down holding his new broom.

"I love it, Daddy! Ride, ride now."

James chuckled. His son was always so eager. He carefully placed Harry on the broom and held him tight as it hovered above the ground. Carefully and slowly he let go. Harry was hovering above the ground on his first broom. James couldn't help but feel nolgastic. His son was a natural born flier like him.


	3. I is for In Sooth

**I is for In Sooth**

**'In Sooth' means in truth. **

Under the blanket Lily and Petunia pretend played. It was their own little house, set up under the kitchen table. Two chairs made the front door and linen sheets covered the sides to act as walls. Inside they lined up all their dolls, serving them tea and biscuits for an afternoon snack. The two little girls giggled and laughed, as they pretended to be the most gracious of hosts.

"Please pour me some more tea Miss Lily," Petunia asked in a posh accent.

"Of course, my lady," Lily had trouble keeping a straight face, "Two sugars or one?"

"One, please."

Lily poured the invisible tea into the saucer and added the pretend sugar, stirring it around with a plastic spoon. She handed it over to Petunia, who sipped it slowly, then smiled.

"Absolutely delicious! Could you please pass the biscuits?" Petunia asked.

While their mother wasn't looking, Petunia had snuck a packet of chocolate biscuits from the pantry shelf. As Lily went to reach for the box, they jumped automatically into her awaiting hands.

"Wh-What did you just do?" Petunia screeched.

"I don't know. It was almost like magic," Lily stood shock still, gaping at the biscuits in her hand.

"I'm getting mother," Petunia cried, pushing past Lily out from under the table.

Lily sat alone, still holding the chocolate biscuits.

"Almost like magic," she whispered.


	4. L is for Lethargic

**L is for Lethargic**

**'Lethargic' means to feel sluggish and tired. **

Arthur Weasley heard a small knock on his bedroom door as his eldest son, Bill, wondered inside. The four year old had a blanket draped over his shoulders and clasped a colourful book in his hands. Arthur quietly slipped out of his covers and led Bill back to his bed. The baby, Charlie, had just been placed to sleep and he didn't want to be yelled at by his wife for disturbing the peace.

Bill was tucked snugly into bed; his favourite soft toy lay alongside him.

"Can you read me a bedtime story Daddy?" Bill asked.

"Sure, did you want me to read this one?" Arthur picked up the discarded book Bill had previously dropped by the door.

"Yes, please."

Arthur sat down comfortably on the end of the bed and began to read.

* * *

_**The Wizard's New Robes**_

_Once upon a time there lived a wizard whose only interest in life was to dress up in fashionable clothes. He kept changing his robes so that people would admire him._

_Once, two thieves decided to teach him a lesson. They told him that they were fine tailors and could sew lovely new dress robes for him. It would be so light and fine that it would seem invisible. Only those who were stupid could not see it. The wizard was very excited and ordered the new tailors to begin their work._

_Finally, the new dress robes were ready. He could see nothing but he did not want to appear as stupid. He pretended to admire the robes and thanked the tailors. He decided to parade down the main street for all to see his new clothes. The people could only see a naked wizard but had heard that the material was invisible to only the stupid. No one admitted it for fear of being thought as an idiot._

_They foolishly praised the invisible fabric and the colours. The wizard was very happy._

_At last, a child cried out, "That man is naked!"_

_Soon everyone began to murmur the same thing and very soon all shouted, "He is not wearing anything!"_

_The wizard realised the truth and quickly retreated back inside, where he put on his old robes._

* * *

"That was so silly, Daddy," Bill laughed.

"It was, wasn't it," Arthur chuckled.

Bill yawned loudly.

"I think it's time you went to sleep young man."

"But I'm not tired," moaned Bill, as his eyes began to slowly droop.

"Of course not. So you won't mind if I turn off the light?" Arthur asked.

Bill had already closed his eyes and snorted a reply.

"Goodnight son," Arthur smiled.


	5. D is for Dotage

**Author's Note: **In the OOTP Neville is interrogated by Umbridge, where he tells her that he can see Thestrals because he saw his Grandfather die. This is where the story idea came from. I named the grandfather Alexander Longbottom.

* * *

**D is for Dotage**

**'Dotage' is a stage in life, when a person is old or weak.**

"Neville dear, keep up," Augusta berated Neville, as they travelled through the halls of St. Mungos Hospital.

Neville ran after his grandmother as she turned into his grandfather's room. He reached the door and pushed it open. Augusta placed her handbag on one of the chairs and slowly embraced her husband. She always became much quieter when they were together.

"Come say hello, Neville. Don't just dawdle in the middle of the room," Augusta spoke.

Neville approached his grandfather and stood next to him at the edge of the bed. Wrinkles lined his face, with grey hair framing his ears.

"Hello Neville. Haven't you grown, since the last time I saw you. You're becoming more and more like your father every time I see you," Alexander smiled.

Neville beamed proudly. He loved it when his grandfather told him he was like his parents. He hardly ever received any compliments from his grandmother.

"Thanks, Grandpa."

Augusta pulled a chair over and sat down wearily.

"How are you feeling? Have the healers given you any news?" Augusta asked.

"The healers don't tell me anything," Alexander grumbled, "I'm just another mouth to feed in this place. I would be better off at home. At least there, I can receive a proper meal."

"You know you can't leave dear. The healers are helping you. I did bring something for you though," Augusta softened, "Neville be a good boy and bring me my purse."

Neville quickly grabbed his grandmother's purse and gave it to her. She unclasped it and took out a large plastic container.

"Here you are. Homemade cookies. I remember last time, you were complaining about the food."

Alexander opened the lid and smelled the delicious aroma of the cookies.

"You always know how to cheer me up," he smiled, than coughed roughly into his hand.

He continued to wheeze, as he struggled to keep his breath.

"Alexander, are you okay? Do you want me to get a healer?" Augusta worried.

"I-I'm okay," Alexander spluttered.

Augusta gasped when he pulled back his hand. It was covered in blood. Neville didn't know what was going on. He stood back, as his grandfather continued to cough up blood.

"I'll get a healer. Don't move," she yelled, running out the room in a hurry.

Alexander struggled to breathe, as blood poured out of his mouth. Neville was terrified. He hid in the corner of the room, watching from afar. His grandfather collapsed onto the bed, red blood covering the white linen sheets. It became quiet, the coughing had stopped.

Neville approached his grandfather. He wasn't moving.

"Grandpa, wake up!" Neville shook Alexander. "Why won't you wake up?"

There was no breath, no spark of life. Neville began to cry. Why wouldn't his grandfather wake?

At that moment Augusta returned with a healer. The female healer quickly performed a diagnostic spell, checking his vitals. Her face became downcast, when she turned to meet Augusta.

"I'm so sorry, mam."

"No, no. It's not true. Keep helping him. He'll be alright. Just… just…" Augusta cried.

It was silent in the room, the only sounds were the soft sobs from Augusta. The healer looked at her watch and recorded the time down on the chart at the end the bed. Neville realised that his grandfather wasn't going to wake up.


	6. H is for Harangue

**H is for Harangue**

**'Harangue' is an aggressive lecture.**

A little boy sat alone under the old oak tree in his front yard. There he picked at the grass, feeling bored and lonely. As the Malfoy heir, he hardly got to leave the manor. Especially to interact with other children his age. He didn't have any siblings to play with, so he usually spent his time alone in the garden.

Their home was situated at the end of a wealthy street, concealed behind large iron wrought gates. Sometimes he would watch the muggle families walk along the footpath. Wishing that he could leave with them. He loved his parents, but more often than not, they were too busy for him. This afternoon Draco watched a small muggle boy walk aimlessly down the street.

He had tears streaming down his face and kept hiccupping through his sobs. Draco wondered why his parents weren't with him. The little boy stopped at the Malfoy manor gates and sat down, burying his head into his knees. Draco wondered over to him, the gate was the only thing separating them.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?" Draco asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The little boy sat up and turned at the voice behind him.

"I-I'm lost," he cried.

"Oh," Draco said.

There was an awkward silence between them.

"What's your name?" Draco asked.

"My name is Henry," the boy sniffled.

"Hello Henry. My name is Draco," Draco smiled.

"Draco is a weird name," Henry spoke.

Draco felt insulted, "Draco is a name for the strong, it means dragon."

"Cool," Henry smiled.

The two boys looked at each other and laughed.

"Do you want to be my friend?" Henry asked, looking down at the ground.

"R-really? You want me to be your friend?" Draco was shocked.

"DRACO! What are you doing?" Lucius yelled from behind him.

He walked down the steps from the manor, his strides quick and purposeful.

"F-father? N-nothing," Draco stuttered.

"What's this then? A muggle boy?" Lucius sneered down Henry, who became very fearful at the intimidating stare.

"Get out of here! Filthy muggle," Lucius yelled.

Henry quickly took off, running down the street.

"Draco come here. We need to have a talk."

Draco shyly looked at his shoes, as he approached his angry father.

"You do not talk to muggles and you especially do not become friends with them. You are a Malfoy. The heir of an ancient and noble house. Muggles are beneath us. They aren't worth the dirt on our shoes. Do you want to be contaminated by such filthy trash?" Lucius asked.

Draco shook his head.

"Of course you don't. You are to stay away from the gate. If I am to catch you speaking to another muggle again, the consequences will be much more severe. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, father," Draco sighed.

"Good," Lucius dismissed him and returned back inside the manor.

Draco didn't watch the muggles anymore.


End file.
